Once again, it came on like a bad acid trip, the certainty that this couldn’t possibly be real, this pathetic excuse for a national life we’ve been asked to endure. There he was, fat-kid-who-ate-the-whole-pie smug smile welded in place, William Barr in all his bland, doughy menace, summoning the brisk, I’ve-got-a-tee-time-at-noon efficiency of the arrogant corporate lawyer. He couldn’t really be pulling …
